


Blanket Fort

by Writing-Rammstein (writingfanfic)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: F/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Rammstein
Summary: For the prompt: 'Could we get a fic where Reader is cuddling with Paul and then ends up getting fucked hard'Paul is like 90% adorable 10% actual devil and if you can't reconcile both sides then nyeh to you





	Blanket Fort

“We’re the fucking best adults in the world.”

You lean back inside the blanket fort, smiling joyfully, and rest your head on Paul’s stomach, and he holds a cookie to your general mouth area, watching _Men in Black II_ with all the intense fascination of somebody deciding this year’s Oscar winners.

“I love you, Paulie.”

“ _Ich liebe dich auch_ \- what is the point of this movie?” he complains, and you snort, rolling onto your side so you’re looking up at him. “Sorry, sweetheart…” You grin, and he strokes your hair. “This is the best blanket fort in the world. I love you, beautiful.” He cranes up to kiss you, and you shuffle up, his lips meeting yours as his blue eyes flutter closed.

You lose yourself in the kiss as his hand lifts to cradle your head, and pull yourself over clumsily to get closer. His eyes open, and crinkle as he smiles for a moment, and then flips you over, grinning at you.

“You are so beautiful.” He strokes your face, and you feel yourself blushing; to hide it, you kiss him again, and your hands begin to wander his body, pushing under his jumper to stroke up his back gently. You love the way his shoulderblades feel as they shift; you know the ticklish spot just below his ribs on his left-side-lower back. You know all his scars and bumps and bruises, new and old. He in turn is supporting himself on one arm, and using the other to trace your body, fingers playing over your shape, dipping under your shirt where it doesn’t quite meet your jeans.

“You’re pretty handsome too,” you say, giggling, and he kisses you, leg between your thighs, hips very gently grinding against you. “Are we really going to fuck in a blanket fort?”

“…what else did we build the blanket fort _for_?” he asks, slowly, and you close your eyes, smiling to yourself. He kisses you again, and this time his hands are a little more firm, finding your bare skin and stroking you. You in turn gently trail your nails up under his jumper, and he shivers a little, skin breaking out into goosebumps under your fingers

“Oh, Paulie,” you murmur, and he grinds up against you again; his hand trails down your thighs and between your legs, rubbing you through your jeans before moving back up and sliding inside them. He kisses your neck, and you purr as he strokes his fingers between your thighs; sliding them inside you, he grinds his erection up against you and you moan, head falling back onto the blankets and pillows the ‘floor’ of your fort is made of.

He doesn’t speak, instead trailing kisses all over your neck; you wrap your legs around him, rolling your hips up and moaning as his fingers stretch you. You bury your head in his shoulder, revelling in how he smells - aftershave and something like strawberries, and you gently nibble his neck, little moans deep in your throat as you grind yourself against the heel of his palm.

“Paul, you make me feel so good,” you murmur, and he grinds himself against you; you can feel how hard he is, and you wrap your fingers around him through his pants. “Fuck me.”

“…you do not have to ask twice,” he mumbles, lips soft against your skin, and his fingers undo your jeans as you stroke him. He pulls them off along with your underwear and then pulls his jeans down a little; you don’t care that he isn’t slowly stripping all your clothes off. It’s been a little too long since you’ve done something this spontaneous, and you like the way it makes you feel wanted. He guides himself into you, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him in deeper - he moans your name, deep and low, and you run your hands back up under his shirt as he fucks you hard, hand sliding under your back to lift you up; you slide your hand in between your bodies and touch yourself again, biting your lips as you dig your heels into his ass.

“Oh Paul, baby…” you sigh, and he kisses you, tongue tangling with yours. You grip onto his hip with your free hand and dig your nails in, and he moans into the kiss, pushing one hand up your shirt and pawing at your tits as if he’s never been allowed to touch them before. You whimper as he fucks you deep, and his skin prickles again, your fingers running over the goosebumps as he moans something unintelligible in your ear. “Paul, baby, keep going…”

“Fuck, beautiful,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, chasing the feeling as you rub yourself in little circles. “You are… wow. So wow. So fucking wow…” You feel yourself about to peak, and squeeze your eyes shut, before kissing his neck over and over, chasing the feeling - you bite his shoulder a little as you come, tightening around him, and you hear him half-snarl, half-moan as you arch up against him.

“…fuck,” you gasp, as you relax back down into the pillows and blankets, and he grips your hips, slamming into you as you lay back, shivering in the come-down. “Paul, baby, cum for me, come on…” You slide your shaking hands up and over his sides and run your nails down his back again, light enough to barely tickle, but it makes him grit his teeth and fuck you harder, until finally he cums with a groan, bucking his hips into you in a way that makes you jolt in your over-sensitivity.

“Fuck,” he whispers, echoing you, and then grins at you, pupils blown, irises thin rims of summer-blue around the edge. “You were right, this is the best blanket fort ever…” You grin, and he pushes himself up, mopping his brow with the cuff of his jumper as you wince. “…you want to go shower and then come and get back in here naked?”

“You wanna just fucking marry me?” you reply and his grin widens. “Oh, Paul, you are perfect…”


End file.
